


Darkness is Most Sublime when Filled with Starlight

by PostPrincessPiaP



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Look its, Pre-Stormblood, Rarepair, Sad Girls being there for each other, Size Difference, Suicidal Thoughts, Useless Lesbians, my dumb headcanon ship ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 09:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19926100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostPrincessPiaP/pseuds/PostPrincessPiaP
Summary: Calofisteri Blackwind, the Scourge of Nym, the breaker of Amdapor, was the greatest weapon the Mhachi Empire ever produced. Marguerite LeGrande, Warrior and Weapon of Light is the greatest champion the goddess Hydalaen has ever wielded. So why is it the pair of them are so utterly hopeless when around each other?





	Darkness is Most Sublime when Filled with Starlight

The first time she lays eyes on her, Calofsteri can’t help but think she’s perfect. Tall, strong, broad shouldered , at least by the standards of less augmented beings. Her bright red coat and dark red hair caked in the dried blood of countless Voidsent, her lightly tanned skin, stretched proudly over well-formed muscle, sizzling with the still hot, ever shifting fluids of the greater Ozma that had stood guard below. Bearing the grin of one who had learned to appreciate the thrill of violence. All the ferocity and bearing of a Nymian Marine, the indomitability of a Amdapori warrior...And about two dozen clearly awestruck ruffians at her back, clearly leagues out of their depth. A Heroine, a Treasure, and most importantly, an audience. What more could an ancient monster in search of a grand finale, a climax, a DEATH, ask for? And how Grand a Death it would be...

\------

“Fisti, I’ve been meaning to ask you-”

“-If it’s to be nicer to the Lalafel runt who keeps inviting herself to my home, she needs only cease gracing me with the muse of her presence and I promise the bounteous font of my wit shall quickly run dry…”

“NO! Well, actually you could stand to be a little nicer to Lalai, she’s only curious…”

“Aye, and how wonderful that curiosity will be when it causes her to poke the wrong seal or scuff the wrong rune, and bring the whole pyramid alive to expel her. In matters of sorcery I am unparalleled but as a babysitter, well…”

“Then stop telling her to “just wander around and figure it out for herself” every time she tries to learn about Mhachi history from you! Or just tell her yourself that you don’t want to see her!

“And deprive myself of the sport of her company? I never said I didn’t enjoy having her around”

“Fisti!!!! I swear, for someone who says she cannot lie you can be awfully duplicitous…”

Marguerite crossed her arms in a huff, as the titanic sorceress smiled smugly at her, kicking her long blue legs playfully as a few thick tendrils of hair snaking around the Roegadyn woman's shoulder, acting as a surrogate arm to grab her in a firm hug against her cheek. The two of them were perched on the edge of the pyramid that was near all that remained of the once great city (or, at least, the larger of them was perched there, as the smaller was perched herself atop her humongous shoulder) staring out as the sun set over marsh and ruins. The first time Calofisteri had done this... she’d wept, bitter tears at how little was left of her home, how little beauty there was to be found in Mhachs carcass. In her mind, when she had first awoken all those centuries ago, she’d pictured everything so differently, the homes as a sunken garden overgrown by glowing coral, or a flowering forest with every shattered building transformed into a titanic flowerpot for flourishing trees...childish fantasy, she had to accept, but a comforting one. 

She had not expected this crag filled swamp, ugly and sunken and rotting and infested. She had not expected there to be nothing left but worn and collapsed stonework, barely a hint of recognizable shape left of the sprawling city skyline she’d last glimpsed as the pyramid sealed shut and the calamity fell upon them. It still stung sometimes. But over time, she’d come to appreciate the way the setting sun painted the saltmoor, the way the clouds drifted above, and life flourished below. Perhaps it was simply the benefit of her company...

“...you were about to ask me something, were you not?” She said, trying to get the tiny warrior back on track. Marguerite was as formidable a person as they came, and certainly no fool, but over time Fisti had come to recognise how easy her mind was to blow off track.

“Oh...Oh right!” Marguerite said, her performative tantrum melting in an instant, hands pressed together at her breast in realization, eyes sparkling with renewed curiosity. She was so...expressive, when she got like this, so talkative, so full of life...it had come as such a surprise to discover, with how quiet and tightly wound she was when she held an axe in her hands,or when destiny tugged at the iron schain that was ever stuck to her collar. How many before her were lucky enough to see the charming, energetic girl beneath it all? How many were lucky enough to see the Warrior of light truly Shine?

“Take your time, darling little lamplight”

“Well...I’ve wondered for a while now but.” Ah, and now she was pressing her fingers together and biting her lip nervously. Adorably. The girl had slain gods and emperors and greater still with a smile on her face the whole time, but when it came to speaking from the heart, she devolved to this... “Back when we fought, why did you...uh, choose to uh. Be. That way. You know, talking like you did. It’s uh. It’s been bugging me, since you aren’t usually so...so….you know….”

Calofisteri giggled as the question managed to stumble its way out of her companions lips.

“So petty perhaps? So vain about things beneath the grand scope of my usual vanity, so self-obsessed with a lesser aspect of myself, compared to now?” Marguerite stuttered and shook her hands in denial, which made her sure she had hit the mark. “It’s ok dear. Just because my boasting happens to be compulsive in nature doesn’t mean I need to dress it up as anything but such, or that you do either.”

“Well, I mean...look just answer the question!”

“Fine, fine.” Calofisteri said, leaning back as she reminisced about the silly little show she had put on for her slayers. Fine enough last words at the time, she had thought… Until that is, the girl on her shoulder had woken her a second time…

\----------------

Calofisteri reluctantly opened her eyes, roused by the sound of metal boots and unsheathing steel, her eyes peering out through the translucent green of her cocoon. It was inevitable, that her sanctum would be invaded, now that the pyramids defenses had been breached. Though in her hubris she had hoped that she would still be trapped in regenerative slumber when it happened. At least it wasn’t Voidsent, from the looks of them. Just a woman, axe in hand and a determination on her face, that screamed “Ah, yet another monster for me to slay.” Tiresome. Not unexpected, but tiresome. So much for her last performance. The world ever screamed for one last encore, no matter how strongly she wished to be off it’s stage....

“For what purpose do you disturb my slumber, Thief?” 

The woman, a young, bronze Roegadyn, gripped the axe tighter as a response, glowing ribbons of red dancing across its surface in response...Gaudy enchanted weapons were never a rarity in Mhach before it’s fall, and ‘Fisteri had long ceased paying them any mind... and yet, this one rang familiar. Something about the way it caught the light made her still fresh wounds sting

“Ah. Not just any thief. Pilferer of the Nullstone. Of my life as well, though as you can see…” She gestured at her body, glittering blue even inside the restorative bubble of blood “...my life is a treasure not so easily stolen away. Is that why you’ve returned, thief? To steal my life once more?”

There was a pause, a long pause as the two glared at each other, one over her axe and the other over the knees clutched tightly to her chest, until eventually the warrior spoke, in a low serious tone that might have been more threatening if not for the massive difference in size between them.

“...If it comes to that…”

“Well well, the ragged plunderer speaks, and oh, how fierce she sounds~” 

Calofisteri let out a deliberate moan as she uncoiled her body to stretch within her liquid bed, one eye always open, locked with the invaders...until, oh, how swiftly they wandered down the sparkling length of the sorceresses body, just for the tiniest fraction of a moment but oh how delightful that moment was to witness. Good. She didn’t make herself a 12 yalm goddess in the flesh to not be stared at, even in her final moments.

“Mm, now, thief, as your would-be slayer I furnished you with my name, why not do me the courtesy of giving me yours?”

Another long silence, as Fisteri settled into a lounging position on her back, hands folded upon her belly, hair writhing lightly around her as it slowly began to awaken too.

“...Marguerite Legrande….”

“~Such a courteous thief~. Lovely to meet you, Marguerite. The Maruader. The Murderer.” The sorceress saw a look of discomfort wash over the determination on the warriors face, and let a satisfied smirk crawl onto her own. There was always so much fun, in watching those of noble and righteous bearing squirm whenever she held up a mirror to their own festering darkness. To see the shame and weakness so easily exposed, for something they could so easily embrace. And she deserve to feel guilty about it for ruining the perfect end Fisti had plotted for herself. The woman triapsed in with pirates at her back and she didn’t have the decency to loot the place before she was done? Her tomb had been untouched for WEEKS by the feel of it! It was practically an insult in itself!

“And here you are, invading my private chambers to revel in my slaughter again? Perhaps that’s the price of perfection. Even my dying gasps can be addictive to the ears. I suppose it’s my fault that you’re so helplessly hooked.”

There was no pause this time, nor cold. This time the warriors reply was fierce, quick and fiery. For how joyful she had been in the middle of combat, it seemed the battlefield of words was a far less comfortable one. Good. Serves her right for being late.”

“I’m not here to kill you!”

“Oh? But what else is there for a hero and a voidsent to do but go for each others throats?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, But we can-”

“What? Trade barbs then? Did you just come to receive another lashing from my tongue? Or from my luscious locks? I'd be more than happy to-”

“-JUST STOP!!!!! For a moment, just give me a moment to think ok. Please?”

Calofisteri stopped, eyeing the warrior up and down as she loosened the deathgrip on her axe, one hand held forward, palm outstretched, pleading for a pause. Not because of surprise, or fear of the heat in the womans voice, despite how her body groaned with the pain of a hundred wounds yet to heal at the sight of that axe. Something about the earnestness of her sudden turn, unsure and nervous as it was, intrigued her. Just a little. Just a small bit. Just enough to stop her from unleashing the fury of her magnificent mane that she may get back to her rest, whether it be by sleep or death. 

“...A moment then. But do not overtax my magnanimity, or I shall happily make it your final one.”

A moment passed, as the two stared at each other, the warrior easing her stance, planting the shaft of her axe on the ground and resting her arms on its head, never breaking eye contact once. A display of dominance, overconfidence or... considering they had already shared the dance of death, and ended it most conclusively, confidence true and earned?

Another moment passed, the silence between them thick and heavy.

Another moment…

And another….

“Um”

“‘UM’?!?!” Calofisteri yelled, exploding into indignant fury, her carefully aloof facade shattering in an instant, fists clenched and arms stretched beneath her in a model tantrum. “THE GREATEST LIVING VOIDMAGE OF MHACH ENTOMBED BEFORE YOU, RICH IN THE WISDOM OF LOST EONS AND THE MALICE OF THE GREATEST WAR THIS WORLD HAS EVER SEEN FRESH IN HER HEART, AND STUNNINGLY BEAUTIFUL BESIDES THANKYOU VERY MUCH, AND ALL YOU CAN MUSTER IS ‘UM’?!?!?!?!”

“Usually someone takes over for me in times like this ok! And I don’t even Know where Lalai is and...oh this is a disaster…”

“USUALLY?! WHAT, YOU FIND SLAIN DEMONS SLEEPING IN A CHRYSALIS OF BLOOD IN THE MIDDLE OF ANCIENT PYRAMIDS OFTEN, DO YOU?!”

“Sort of? I mean, not, exactly like this but...oh, sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to uh! Diminish you or anything!!!”

“WELL I SHOULD THINK YOU DID MORE THAN DIMINISH ME ALREADY!!! YOU DROVE AN AXE THROUGH MY JAW THE LAST TIME WE MET!!!! CLEAN THROUGH!!!!!”

“Y!!! Well you did get better! Uh, a lot better, clearly…”

“CLEARLY!!!” She yelled with a final huff, feeling her indignation cross unmistakable into little more than a petty huff. Not that she could do much to help it. This...this stuttering little ruffian, chattering away as if she weren’t before, before everything that Calofisteri was!!! She was ruining everything!!! 

“Ok, Ok, I’m sorry, we DID really need the nullstone at the time and, well you did challenge us first, technically...” Marguerite winced as Fisti shot daggers at her with a glare. “Like I said I’m sorry!!!! But we...we CAN talk right?”

Calofisteri considered her options. She COULD just say damn it all and force the girls hand, attack right now, but...no, the moment was ruined, thoroughly. Which left her the choice to simply return to her sleep out of spite or….gods, she was actually going to humor her. Just until someone more serious came along and understood the gravity of the situation enough to grant her a proper finale. 

“...I suppose.”

At that, Marguerite all but leaped for joy, only stopping as the axe she was resting on fell to the ground as she started to do so. Fisti rolled her eyes as the woman yelped and hurriedly picked the weapon up and hung it upon her back, its red ribboned glow fading as it found its home. Thal willing at least she wouldn’t have to live long with the embarrassment of this encounter.

“!!!!! Ah, truly??? Ah, goodness, I, I just need a moment to think, uh, oh gosh, how does Alphy do this...though thinking back that's maybe a bad example, ehehe…”

Silence settled between them once more, as the warrior struggled within herself to find words again. Calofisteri idly examined her nails, perfect talons capable of ripping flesh and armor to ribbons...at least, average flesh and armor. Not the sculpted bronze body in front of her, nor the bright red and gold coat that adorned it, framing those muscular curves quite cutely, even as she nervously picked at the ornamentation. It reminded Fisteri of her encounters with Mhach’s youngest daughters, fussing about their dresses and scholars robes as they asked if they might, if they worked very hard, grow up just like her. She’d always smile and pat them gently on the head as she told them to stay true to their inner darkness, for within its calm embrace lay miracles…

How many of them had survived the flood, she wondered. How many found greatness within the wells of their inner abyss. How many had history forgotten, after a millennia and more, even their stories as dust…

Silence continued

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to pat the warrior on the head too. She sighed dramatically to catch her attention as she mumbled to herself, so...so comfortable as if she wasn’t in any danger at all. What exactly HAD this woman been through, Fisti wondered? Oh, curse her, now her curiousity was piqued as well.

“...Ok. Start by telling me why you’re here….”

\----

Minutes flew by as Marguerite explained the situation. She’d been hired by some aspirant black mage (Fisti took no small joy in finding all three of the magical disciplines of her time had all but gone extinct after the flood. Serves them right) to escort her through the ruined city to discover what they could of it’s lost history, when Marguerite had gotten lost and found herself drawn by some feeling to the Voidmages private quarters. And while she was at it she told her of her adventures with the redbills too, the discovery of the Void Ark, the battle of Dun Scaith. The fate of the last High Voidmage…

“Did you know her?” Marguerite asked, innocently. Damn her, but the Roe had a knack for saying all the wrong things in all the right ways. Anyone else and Fisti might have snapped then and there, rained fury upon them with each and every iron lock at her disposal but miserably she couldn’t muster the slightest hint of animosity towards her anymore. And it wasn’t just the way she talked, though that was certainly charming enough. Behind her words there was a certain...desperation. A deep well of emotion that was driving her clumsy attempts at communication. Feelings even Fisti in her prior desperation couldn’t merely toss aside.

“One does generally have to be acquainted with ones wife, yes” She said with a matter of fact shrug. 

“Oh...oh, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…”

“You needn’t be. I’ve had a few centuries to come to terms with it. Cessair and I had most of a wonderful life together, and we both said our goodbyes as we knew they might be. Yes, We both knew the risks when I chose to stay here and she chose to shepard those wretched fools to paradise...” Technically true. A very carefully crafted, technical truth. By nature, Calofisteri struggled to lie. Her transformation to the sublime being she was now, the pinnacle of black magic, had come through steeping her every fiber in the pitch black of her internal Abyss, the true Void. And thus it left her innermost feelings always close to the surface, always bubbling up unbidden at the slightest prompting. Over the years, she had learned to work with it as best she could. Clouding greater truths behind lesser ones. Omitting whatever she could.

Not that it helped much. It was plain Marguerite saw right through her. Even now it hurt to talk about. How many cumulative years had she lain awake in this prison, wailing and wallowing in regret, cursing her fate, telling herself over and over again how easy it would be to end it all without her wretched duty. And now, duty discharged, she was stuck here. She could just do it herself. Shatter a few of the control crystals, collapse the artificial rift, disperse her aether to the lifestream, just like any other voidsent robbed of a shell of sheft and a path home. It would be so EASY to do it, she’d been content to leave it to fumbling thieves and halfwitted warriors, but they’d failed and SHE’D failed and she couldn’t even lift a single strand and-

“Hey, it’s ok, y-you can let it out. Everybody needs to grieve, I...I understand."

Just like that, the little warrior was right in front of her face. Legs perched precariously on one of the massive crystals that sustained her cocoon, a gauntlet clad hand reached right into the charged Voidsent blood, crackling with energy without so much as a twitch in response, wiping what Fisti realized was a tear from her eye. How...how impudent, how impertinent, how, how DARE she-

She couldn’t help but notice that the crystal was teetering. Yes, one rock the wrong way, even a slight push, and it would fall, and shatter, and this would all end, and this funny little woman would...would have to live with that. Like she clearly had. Time and again.

What kind of life would lead a woman so ill used to speech, so at home with the edge of an axe, to be so desperate to start a conversation with a demon?

How many conversations had she wished SHE’D had? How many final goodbyes had she been forced to be satisfied with? A woman who had slain the queen of shadows herself like it was nothing, slayed the mightiest weapons Mhach had ever produced like they were nothing? A woman who, despite all that she was, had still stood there and struggled and...tried desperately to find any way not to end this as anything but another notch on her axe.

It’s not conscious thought that moves her hair. By the time she snaps out of her stunned silence, Marguerite is already wrapped up gently in her tendrils, lifted carefully off the crystal at her feet. She doesn’t even flinch. Just stares ahead into Calofisteris giant eyes with an understanding that minutes before she would have thought impossible.

And in turn, Calofisteri eyed Marguerite, the senses of a Voidmage measuring up both the woman and the Aether within her. There was light there, blinding, radiant, powerful, beyond what she had ever seen within mortal flesh...and yet, light was not what interested her. For behind that incandescence there lay a small, yet potent hint of darkness...the kind she’d seen within herself, so many times since she'd learned to commune with her inner abyss. Darkness nestled like a pearl within a shell of light...and bearing with it the signs of deep communion too. So not only had she touched that part of herself, but she had survived? To think...Fate would be so cruel as to lay it on this thick. It was almost insulting.

“Yes. Clearly you do.” She said stiffly, gently lowering her down. All the while their eyes locked with each other. Waiting for someone to break the silence. And right now, feeling for the first time in 1500 years of slumber true exhaustion, Calofisteri could not bare to navigate another web of awkward apologies from the girl. She needed sleep. And between the two of them, they needed something else. A Promise. Just a small and temporary one, she told herself. But a promise nonetheless.

“...I should tell you about her. Next time. Tomorrow. And don’t embarrass us both by gracing my chambers without food then either. Sweets preferably.”

“Next time?!”

“Next time.”

\---------------------

“There was nothing special about it really. A beautiful death…it’s silly to say it out loud. But over my time grieving, I came up with a dozen little scripts in my head depending on who, through battle, I would bequeath the nullstone to. A nostalgic call to arms for a descendant of amdapor, a test of worth for a daughter of mhach...a plea for forgiveness to the survivor of Nym…” She stared wistfully at Marguerite as she uttered those words, the smaller girl listening intensely with a look of compassion writ across her chiseled features. Thoughts flooded her mind of the stories she’s been told, of how the warrior of light helped bring the cursed Tonberries back to sanity, and how they were slowly beginning to rebuild...once more, without even knowing it the Roe had played the savior to her tragedy. And one day soon she might be able to make good that second chance. 

“...and of course, for a ragged group of tomb robbers like yourselves, with no knowledge of whom you were about to face, there was the blood crazed void witch, the last lingering horror of Mhach, radiant and terrible, to strike down like any other monster. A simple tale to sing to your children when all was through. I’d even included a helpful explanation of my nature to set the scene!”

Marguerite nodded solemnly, then smiled. “...Well you certainly left an impression. Even the Allagan Emperor was less pompous! Uh, just barely though...” 

“Oh, well isn’t that high praise! And me with but a paltry 1500 summers to prepare it too, why you do know how to make a girl feel special.”

The two of them laughed, Marguerites hearty and boisterous chuckle seeming to fill the entire saltmoor. It’d taken a lot, between the two of them to erase the guilt of that day. At first it hurt to mention it, but now, every time they looked back on it they managed to laugh. However big a miracle their current friendship was, it had taken no small amount of actual hard work to maintain. They fought often, poured salt on each others wounds as much as salve, but...it was more than worth it. Each time they parted they made the promise of another day together, good or ill. Even if it was only ever a day at a time. And indeed, this day was drawing to a close, the sun dipping below the horizon, the stars beginning to sparkle up above. Darkness and light.

“It’s beautiful you know? In the sunset.” Marguerite said, a wistful tone in her voice, as the last traces of sunlight raced across the marsh.

“...Yes, as much as a swamp can be, I suppose.”

“I meant you.”

“Well yes I...W...WHAT?!” 

Calofisteri almost fell off the pyramid she was so shocked, tentacles of hair flying in all directions to steady her as she jumped from her precarious seat. Marguerite, bless her, had latched onto her ear for safe purchase, clinging to it like a cat to a branch.

“I-I DIDN’T THINK IT WAS THAT BAD!!! ALISAIE SAID IT’D WORK!!!!!!!!!!” She yelled, shock coursing through her body and through the ear into Fistis. 12 take them, two of the deadliest warriors history had cared to produce, hardened by countless battles, reduced to shuddering wrecks in the comfort of each others company….Slowly Fisti got her balance and relaxed her hair, the vibrant blue and purple mass deflating along with the body it was attached to, drooping lifelessly into a limp mess around them, as marguerite tentatively resumed her perch.

“It...it wasn’t bad dear candle flame, just very, VERY unexpected.” She said, her voice cracking “12 forgive me, I can’t believe she took the initiative on this before me…”

“The Initi-Is that a uh!!! Yes then? As in a uh!!! Reciprocation of uh! You know. The uh. Compliment, and the uh. Implication and-”

“Marguerite Legrande. Firstly. FIRSTLY.” Calofisteri said, raising a table sized hand to sush the excitable woman dancing on her shoulder. “Next time, please go to literally ANYONE else but the utterly smitten teenager in your life for advice on how to hit on a woman. Even Y’shtola. Gods, even THANCRED. You could have bitten your tongue in front of that girl and she’d still find a way to parse it as smooth.” She could feel Marguerites excitement dampen a little at that, but it had to be said. “Secondly...yes, yes, Yes, I accept the statement, implication and all. Honestly, the one night I work up the courage…”

“So! You were going to implicate me then? Uh in, asking me out. To be clear. Uh though we still have to figure out the details of out but, well with the dragonsong war over I have all the time in the world to stay here and-”

“Oh, Marguerite. Dear Marguerite. Sweet little heroine fluttering about the realm on aetherial wings. You stand upon the shoulders of giants yet how soon you forget it…” A lone tentacle wriggled back to life before stretching into the pyramids peak above, returning with a shimmering green orb of crystalized voidsent blood, pure as the cloud of darknesses own ichor itself. 

“I won’t be bringing out any of my power through a vessel like this but it can sustain a form without need for external energy sources, and, in theory, across the breadth of this star. And YES, need you worry, it is virtually indestructible as well. A “Pocket Void” if you will. Over time I’m hoping to be able to generate an approximation of my body prior to it’s ascension to it but for now... “ As the orb was placed into Marguerites outstretched hands, She focussed and her left arm dissolved into Aether...only for a toy sized approximation to form out of the ball, waving at Marguerite. Bless her, BLESS her, she waved back. “It’s a solution. Besides, carrying my genius with you is boon enou-”

“Oh Fisti!!!!!!” Marguerite is upon her now, arms holding onto her face tight, lips busy covering the gigantic cheek with kisses, as the lapis lazuli began to glow in a deep blush. “You...you’re really. The best. You know?”

“I d-do.” She said, absorbing every peck upon her skin. Despite everything else about her body, Marguerites lips were soft. Extremely soft. 

“You just-” Soft lips and warm tears now. Oh how Calofisteri yearned to kiss her back.To hold her in her hands, to plant her lips upon her chest, her legs, her back, her face, anywhere they could find purchase. Just as she’d learned to do with Cessair. Just as she finally felt ready to learn to do again. “You’re always. You’re always trying for me. I feel so selfish making you but- I...I….”

“Shhh. Shush. Dear little Marguerite.” More tendrils came to life, a thousand extra limbs wrapping the smaller woman in an embrace as tender as any limbs of mortal flesh ever had. “No need to trouble yourself with fleeting words. Your feelings reach me as clearly as the light of the stars up above. For you are my star down below. The flame in my Abyss…” 

Gently she lifted her off her shoulder. So pretty in the evening light. So red and glowing ...to call her a star barely did her justice. Lips met lips, clumsy, awkward, laughable, but right. “Let this be our promise to see tomorrow together. And more importantly, a promise of a tomorrow after that.”

To see the two of their souls, would be to see a reflection of the darkening night sky above, and ever glittering cosmos within it. For Darkness is always most sublime, when filled with starlight.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so! This has been a LONG time coming for me. Calofisteri and Marguerite are like, the pair that keep me going even when the writing for FF14 is kicking my ass hard, I've been imagining them as a couple, their adventures and growth, since like. the end of Heavensward and, never managed to write a solid ANYTHING about it down and! Shadowbringers made me so frikkin. happy and they went through so much I HAD to do something so...here it is, the moment they became a couple, and the moment they truly met. This is like. Messy and personal as fuck and wrapped in SO many headcanons but, I hope that ya'll like! Enjoyed reading it and it was worth your time!


End file.
